san bai

There is such a picture. In the cold air, walking through the narrow alley, the heel buckled on the wet old slate, echoing. Open a door casually, it is an old house with hundreds of years old. The wall is covered with moss. Occasionally there is a cane which is not resistant to loneliness walking down the wall, teasing your nerves. This is the old district of Ruhu town in winter. Such a picture is a typical appearance of Jiangnan ancient town. I have written about Jiangnan for countless times, the landscape here, especially the old town. I once suspected that I had the small town complex syndrome. During that time, I gave all my leisure time to these vicissitudes of age. I am so close to it, touch it, and experience the feeling of being integrated with it. Later, for a long time, I thought I had no words to write it. Because of various factors, I have lived in the town of Ruhu by mistake since last year. If we used to go to school in a small town, now we really live with it. Those beautiful, elegant, quiet and distant words that used to be just in words often mess up my time now, which makes people sigh with emotion the real truth. At the end of another year, I suddenly turned around and was surprised to find that I was no longer my original self. I have already been thoroughly remoulded by the character of a small town in the south of the Yangtze River. It seems that my soul is getting slower and slower in the previous rush, and it seems that I am learning more and more, just like the ancients boiled a pot of Dragon well under a, write a few words and become an idler. If you want perfection, then come to Ruhu town. The river flowing from north to south is slowly like green silk. The row of old houses with gray walls and black tiles along the river, the clean yard in the old house, the old locust trees in the yard and the rattan chairs under the old locust trees are all naturally arranged just as you imagined. If you have free time, sit down on the cane chair, have a sip of tea and watch the river. The sight was not more than, there must be an arched stone bridge which had been on for years, falling on the river in a bend. If it was sunny noon, you would see the sister-in-law who washed blue cloth trousers at the stone level beside the bridge, and a boat which was gently swung from the other end of the river through the bridge opening. Everything is naturally so perfect that you can no longer be demanding when you are intoxicated. If you are a poet who writes, then come to Ruhu town. You walk into a place in the small town casually. The narrow stone alley is full of Moss, and several green branches hang on the curved eaves. Occasionally, when you raise your head, you will come across several wooden latticework windows on the second floor which are half open and half closed. A ripe small town girl shows half of her body, looking back and forth, waiting for her late lover. If it is dusk, the warm winter sun will pull out a long shadow on the river. The old boatman wearing a thick cotton-padded jacket paddled across the river, which seemed to be scattered with a string of glittering silver. The setting sun came slowly, and the soft light suddenly poured over the whole town, just like a layer of gorgeous gold gauze. At this time, the street monument engraved with the words of predecessors and the patched old government all gave out the ancient quality. Always stick to the history that is not covered by modern civilization and walk towards you leisurely. The only thing you can do is to write a poem of new knowledge appropriately in the time like a dream. If you come to Ruhu town, it must be the time when winter rain falls. Walking by the river, through the dense rain, you will vaguely see a piece of white wall and black tiles in the distance. The Weeping Willows on both sides of the river waved freely in the wind. The Willow color in the rain makes people happy. You will stand on the bridge to see Ru Lake. The small town at this time is like the scenery in the painting. The simple ink color mixing is implicit and quiet in the river, in the old house, spreading between the small bridge and the Wicker. At this time, if you casually turn into a small lane, it will be quiet and abnormal. Walking, you will meet an old woman sitting on a small bench listening to the rain at the door of your house, looking at you and smiling. It seems that you are Bosom Friends of the next year. Or just meet me, I will lead you to a desirable tea house near the river. The tea smells so sweet that you want to sit down all the time. This is the real town of Ruhu where I live now. After living in such a small town for a long time, one day suddenly, such as tonight, will have the desire to write again. The words contain my thin mind, which is also an account of my love in recent years. 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